


Part 1(Forming a Family)

by Sanshal



Series: Gifts of the Apocalypse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute, Gen, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4015102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanshal/pseuds/Sanshal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam had always assumed weird to be synonymous with Winchester. And with Lucifer out of his cage, he only expected the strangeness quotient to increase.<br/>But even in his wildest dreams he had never anticipated that the biggest change of the apocalypse would be him and Dean raising a child.</p><p>Together</p><p>Or; in short... the story of how Jesse-the Anti Christ came to live with the Winchester brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part 1(Forming a Family)

 

** Prologue  **

Sam’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the wavy golden hair out of the corner of his eyes; his head automatically swivelling to keep her in sight as the Impala zoomed past the lonely figure.  
It would not be the first time he thought Jessica was watching him, but unfortunately the last few times had been while he slept and he held her in his arms once again. Except; he hadn’t.  
It had been a part of Lucifer’s tricks, and it had hurt worse than he had expected it to even after five years to realise that she was really gone.

This Jessica was not Lucifer’s creation... she smiled sadly at him.

Sam averted his eyes.

 

** Part 1: Forming a Family  **

Sam checked his watch and glanced at Dean, “Hasn’t it been long enough?”  
The older Winchester checked his own watch before nodding, “Yeah; do you think-?”  
The question was never completed as both brothers raced up the stairs and into what they presumed to be the boy’s room only to find the child standing stock-still in the middle of the room. He turned when they burst into the room.  
Dean was the first one to find his voice, “Jesse?”  
Sam wondered if the seven-year old could hear the cautious apprehension under the layers of concern in his brother’s voice.  
“I don’t know what to do” The child confessed, looking as lost as he apparently felt with snot and tears marring his features. In that instant, Jesse was every bit the little seven-year-old boy he was rather than the Anti-Christ who had defeated a demon and turned an Angel of the Lord into a toy figurine just moments earlier.  
“Sshh... it’s alright. We can help you with that... if you let us. Will you let us help you; Jesse?” Dean asked, crouching so that his face was at the same level as the boy’s.  
Jesse nodded wordlessly, accepting their help but evidently reluctant to trust them still.  
Dean extended a hand, obviously ignoring the blatant distrust, “Alright-y then; you have a bag or suitcase to pack your stuff in?”  
A nod  
“Okay, can you tell me where it is?”  
“In mom’s room”  
“The one she’s sleeping in right now?”  Dean shot a look at Sam above Jesse’s head.  
Another nod  
The elder Winchester let out a sigh, “Hey Champ; do you think it’ll be okay with you if we get you a new bag later and just take the rest of your stuff with us?”  
A shrug  
Dean’s eyes rapidly scanned the room, “Bedcover?”  
Sam lifted a shoulder in a ‘ _does-it-matter-?’ –_ gesture; feeling his irritation coalesce with every second Dean spent fawning over the child. The elder’s ‘ _awesome’_ comment still ringing in his ears. He wondered why it was _awesome_ in his brother’s book when a seven-year old exorcised a demon with his mind and _awful_ when he did the same.  
Dean sighed, “Sam, some help?”  
“Well, I don’t see any joy-buzzers around for you to test on me... what d’you want me to do?” He bit out. He had not planned on telling how much it hurt to have Dean _test_ the buzzer on him and risk his life, but like everything he tried keeping from his brother, the thought just churned in his mind long enough to be able to jump out at the least appropriate moment.  
Dean’s eyes widened, “What?”  
_That_ innocent look really raised his hackles, “I don’t know what you want me to say or do here, Dean! ‘Coz everything _I_ do is apparently wrong!”  
“Really, Sam... Of all the times you could choose, you want to throw a temper tantrum now?”  
Sam scowled, he supposed it did not really help matters that he wanted to stomp his foot like a petulant five-year old when his brother was already comparing him to a toddler.  
“Ne’er mind; let’s get outta here before the parents awaken, alright?” Sam grouched.  
“Thank you, Captain Obvious!” was Dean’s expected retort.  
But when Sam turned to gather the clothes Jesse had indicated he wanted, the elder’s hand stretched out to grasp his wrist. “You _know_ that I tested the buzzer against my fingers before jolting you, right?”  
Dean’s eyes were wide, the clear green depths willing him to believe.  
“Do I?” Sam asked, slightly taken aback by the question. It hadn’t occurred to him that Dean; all of six that he was at heart; would love to terrify him even now.  
“Sammy, I’d never hurt you, little brother” Dean’s voice was rough with anguish. His very expression lamenting the loss of trust between them  
 “Why? You should...I mean, I-I set Lucifer free”  
“’coz you’re my baby brother, Sam. And as for releasing the Devil from his cage...you never could have done it if I hadn’t broken the first seal. You _know_ that. And besides, you had the best intentions-”  
“Last I heard, it wasn’t the road to heaven that was paved by good intentions”  
“True,” Dean conceded, “But we both got played... by the dic-” He glanced at the boy behind them; “BY the angels and demons... god, that sounds like the start of some bad joke”  
 Sam gave a weak smile, “Yeah; ‘cept... the joke’s on us this time”  
“Hmmm...” Dean shot a meaningful glance at the little seven-year old Anti Christ behind them, “I don’t know, man... you may have snagged us an ace here by convincing Jesse... maybe, just maybe, we can do this. What d’you think?”  
The younger brother nodded, “yeah... But together, right?” Not wanting to confess how much he needed Dean, but unable to keep silent either.  
Dean smiled, “Together” and followed with a soft cuff on Sam’s head, “Now pack, bitch”  
“Jerk” The response was automatic after all these years, but the petty name calling had long stopped being a source of irritation for him and turned into a comfort. It was a sign that they were ‘okay’. Or at least, they would be.  
  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
  
The youngster had exhausted himself into doze by the time they reached the motel they had been holed up in. Dean pulled out the fast asleep child from the car; Sam suppressed a smile at the sight. He had always known that of the two of them, Dean was more adept at handling children. Yet it always caught him by surprise to see his brother gain their confidence so effortlessly. Now, watching Dean gently lift a slumbering Jesse out of the car; he had to glance away or risk his brother figuring out just how much it affected him.  
Dean was gentle with children in a way he never let himself be with adults, even the traumatised victims they dealt with.  
The child jerked awake at the creak of the motel-door and for a minute both Winchester’s were afraid of him screaming to the high heavens. Fortunately for them, the boy seemed to recognise them and though his body tensed, he remained cradled in Dean’s arms uneasily.  
Setting him down gently on one of the beds, both brothers hurried to pack their meagre belongings.  
“Hey, Champ?”  
The child blinked up at Dean.  
“Why don’t you- uh, freshen up; change into some comfortable sleep-wear. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us”  
Jesse bit his lip but followed the instruction mutely.  
“You’re hungry?” Dean asked, holding up a Snickers bar when he emerged from the bathroom a little later.  
The boy shook his head, sitting down at his former position again.  
Sam glanced around the room one last time before giving a nod to Dean who acknowledged with a nod of his own, “Alright, Champ... let’s blow this joint”  
The boy’s eyes widened at Dean’s choice of words, but he stood wordlessly; slipping his smaller hand into the larger palm as he followed the hunter outside.  
  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
  
The soft sniffle had them both checking the backseat to ensure that Jesse was alright. The boy was fast asleep on the stolen pillow and blanket Dean had provided as they raced out of town, but Dean’s expression was shuttered when he returned his gaze to the road.  
“What?”  
The elder Winchester shrugged. “Nothing; It’s just that...I- It feels wrong, ya’ know? Taking a kid away from his parents? Just what are we doing, man?”  
Sam nodded, he knew what Dean meant. “It’s safer this way.”  
“I know... just, times like this? I really hate our job.”  
Sam looked out at the dark highway as they sped away from the town. It’s not like he did not agree with Dean- just that he could see no way around it. The boy’s life was never going to be the same; and he supposed he could empathize with that. He blew out a weary breath, wishing that for once luck would favour them.  
The silence continued for so long that he was considering grabbing some shut-eye when Dean spoke again.  
“You know, I always hated it,” Dean’s voice was pitched low-careful of the kid sleeping behind them, “that you never really knew Mom. It bugged me that you never felt the way she could just wrap her arms around you and make the world seem brighter- the way she sang ‘Hey Jude’ instead of lullabies... I –uh- I _wanted_ you to have that-” his voice faltered. He glanced at Sam before concentrating back on the road. The next words were pitched so low that even Sam had to strain to hear them. “And it’s happening again. That kid will go up without his parents, Sam...”  
He could hear the anguish in his brother’s voice. And while every single thing Dean had spoken about might be true, he knew it was going to tear his brother apart- knowing that _he_ had been involved in splitting up a family. While he may not be able to make that better, he could, atleast, definitely reassure Dean about his own childhood.  
“Do you remember my first grade teacher, Dean?”  
His brother glanced at him in some confusion at the abrupt topic change, but nodded. “Ms. Kimble; yes I remember her. Why?”  
He was slightly spooked to realize that Dean remembered her name while he hadn’t but quickly pushed past his confusion to make his point. “She was the one who explained to me what a ‘Mom’ exactly was...” At Dean’s raised eyebrow, he explained, “I mean, I guess I understood the concept in an abstract way; but I had never really known her, you know? So I could never really grasp why everyone always got that look in their eyes when I told them that my Mom had passed away. Anyway, she said things like mom’s cut the crust form your bread and read you bed-time stories and kiss away your hurts....those kinds of things.”  
He could see Dean nod, so he continued. “It’s just that that confused me even more...”  
“Why?”  
“Because I already had someone do all of those things for me; and that kind of made ‘Mom’ redundant, you know?”  
Dean sighed, never happy when someone tried to thank him.  “What exactly are you trying to say, Sammy?”  
“That all things considered, it wasn’t too bad. I- I may not have known mom; but you did everything in your power to ensure that I wasn’t losing out on the experience. And I guess, what I’m really trying to say is- _thank you._ ”  
His brother shrugged. “It was the least I could do.”  
“No, you didn’t _have_ to do any of it. But you did, and I’m glad; but you shouldn’t beat yourself up about something beyond your control.”  
“That’s all very nice to hear, Sam...But it does not help the kid.”  
“Berating yourself is not going to help him either, but if you want, go on- wallow all you want. I won’t stop you.”  
He saw Dean’s jaw clench, but his brother remained silent.  
“I’m serious, Dean... It will work out. Somehow... I don’t know how; but I think he will be okay.”  
Dean nodded. Not exactly accepting Sam’s theory, but conceding that- _if they were to believe Cass_ (which they did); they really had no other option this time.  
  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
  
“Won’t it be easier if Jesse shared a bed with one of us?” Sam asked plaintively when Dean called dibs on the other bed, effectively exiling him to the ratty couch. Having driven continuously through the day since they picked the Anti Christ the previous night, they were exhausted.  
“Sure it will, provided you’re ready to deal with the child-abuse charges”  
 “We won’t be hurting him!”  
“Dude, we pretty much kidnapped him, you know that; right? You think the kid will actually _enjoy_ sharing a bed with one of his captors?”  
Sam winced, “Well, when you put it like that-”  
“Let’s not traumatise him anymore than necessary”  
“Yeah-” He froze, making Dean twist his head to see what had caught his attention and finding Jesse standing wide-eyed at the bathroom door.  
“Hey kiddo; you feeling hungry yet?” Dean asked, shifting to face the child.  
Jesse mutely shook his head, small fingers twisting the hem of his tee-shirt.  
“Aw, come on...you’ve got to eat _something_ Champ... okay, tell you what; why don’t you pick something from the takeout menu, huh? Anything goes... or maybe, how about an ice-cream?”  
The boy still shook his head, silent tears welling up in his eyes.  
Dean sighed, sliding off the bed he’d been lounging upon to go crouch before the child, “Missing your parents?” he questioned softly.  
A hesitant nod  
“Sshh, come here” he gently tugged at the boys arm, “it’s alright, come here; Jesse...”  
The boy obeyed mutely, stiffly moving forward till he was held against Dean, “It’s alright to miss them, you know; I mean I _still_ miss my Mom... and it’s been so long since I-”  
The boy’s voice was raspy with unshed tears when he spoke, “Did you have to leave her too?”  
Dean shook his head, “I-ah no... _She_ had to leave us”  
“Why?”  
“Well, I guess God needed her more than I did?” Dean curved a brow at Sam, his expression as lost as Jesse’s.  
Sam smiled sadly at the sight, shaking his head helplessly.  
“I miss her... Dad too” The seven-year-old confessed, sniffling softly. The child’s body a taut line of unease where it rested cradled against Dean’s chest.  
“I know, Champ; I know... and I know it doesn’t mean _jackshit_ ; but I think you’re amazingly brave to protect them the way you are”  
Jesse nodded, resting his head against Dean’s neck nervously, his body still stiff as a cardboard; but losing some of its tension.  
*  
“Dude, go to sleep already” Dean grumbled.  
“You try sleeping on a couch too small for a midget and then tell me how you sleep!” Sam hissed back into the darkness, trying to keep his voice low so as not to awaken the sleeping child.  
He shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position on the lumpy foam and letting out a muffled yelp when his small-toe banged into the corner of the table next to the couch.  
“Goddammit!” Dean growled, “Fine, c’mere”  
Sam stilled, “What? And keep your voice down; do you actually _WANT_ to wake the kid?”  
“Shut up, Bitch; and get your ass up here. Boy can sleep through the damn apocalypse if we let him”  
Both of them froze at the expression.  
“Bad choice of words, I guess” Dean grimaced; “Anyway, _are_ you coming here or do I have to drag you?”  
“What?”  
“Sam,” The older brother sighed, “It’s obvious you can’t sleep on that thing. And I’m not letting you keep me up all night with your twisting and turning. So for the last time, get your gargantuan ass here, okay? We’ll share.”  
“You’re sure?” Sam called softly, still unsure about the child’s ability to sleep through Dean’s loud grumbling.  
“Yes, dammit; I’m sure!” Dean muttered, and Sam could hear him shifting to make space for him. “And if you even think of hogging the covers, I’m kicking you to the floor. Clear?”  
“Uh-huh” Sam sighed blissfully as he settled on the relative comfort of the mattress. Dean was a warm weight next to him and he found himself idly wondering on the statistics of making it through the night without touching his brother. He shifted around, trying to get more comfortable and ultimately concluded that it was impossible to stay on ‘his side’ of the narrow bed when he was sharing it with someone as big as Dean. He briefly remembered cuddling with Jessica and how she used to fit almost perfectly next to him, but his brother was neither slender nor small in any respect and _that_ particular fantasy was soon broken- _thank God for small mercies; he didn’t want to know what it would be like to mistake Dean for Jessica in his sleep; although he suspected it would involve a shiner or two._  
Unable to find a good position, he awkwardly slung his arm over Dean’s side; hoping his brother wouldn’t wake. The loud huff dispelled that notion, “Sam?”  
“Yeah?”  
“What do you think you’re doing?”  
“Umm, _nothing_?”  
“Uh-huh; and why is your arm trying to suffocate the breath from my lungs?”  
Sam flailed, accidentally kicking Dean in the shin as he realized that his hand _was_ actually pressed against Dean’s throat- no wonder his brother sounded short-of-breath even as he complained about Sasquatch brothers and their octopus limbs. “Sorry”  
For a minute neither moved, then Dean’s voice ordered, “Turn over”  
“What?”  
“This is not working; C’mon Sam... Work with me here, _turn around”_  
The younger Winchester obeyed, slightly confused at what Dean was trying to accomplish.  
But then he felt his brother’s warm body press against his back as an arm draped itself around his waist. For a moment neither brother moved, relaxing into the comfort of the other’s presence.  
Then  
“Better?” Dean’s voice called from the darkness.  
“I guess” Sam conceded  
“Good, now shut-up and let me sleep, okay? If I hear another peep from you, you’re on the floor.”  
“Yes, _Mom”_  
A light kick against his ankle and a muffled ‘smartass’ but then the day’s exhaustion caught up with them and they surrendered to Morpheus.  
  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
  
Both brothers were getting worried- at this point it had been over forty-eight hours that the kid had eaten nothing more than a single slice of toast, barring the OJ Dean had cajoled down his throat this morning. “C’mon , kiddo... there must be something you enjoy eating? ...Burger? ...Steak? ... _Pancakes?”_ Dean coaxed.  
The boy’s stomach rumbled as though in response and the elder Winchester grinned, “See, even your tummy agrees with me. So, what’ll it be? Thai or Indian...?”  
“Happy meal?” A small voice enquired.  
Dean paused, “Happy Meal it is.”  
Sam bit back his sigh; it was good that the kid was finally agreeing to a proper meal- he _could_ deal with a grinning clown; hell, he dealt with nightmares worse than a harmless clown cut-out on a daily basis. The thought of having to go past Ronald McDonald didn’t freak him out at all. _No siree!_  
“I’m feeling like lo-mein; what ‘bout you, Sammy?”  
“Huh?” Sam jerked out of his thoughts at his name, “And it’s _Sam!”_  
Dean waved him off with a ‘whatever’ gesture; “Lunch; any preferences?”  
“I thought we were going to the golden arches?”  
“Nah... Better to lie low, don’t cha think? I’ll pick up Jesse’s Happy Meal. You go get me some lo-mein; ‘kay? And ... want me to grab a salad for you on my way back?”  
Sam nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”  
“Good, so you’re tagging with me or Sasquatch here, Jesse?”      
The boy maintained his personal ‘silence is golden rule’, wordlessly raising a finger to point it at the elder Winchester. Dean grinned, winking at the kid before suddenly lifting him off his feet. Dean’s abrupt lift had the desired action, earning a squeal from the boy and then a shy giggle as he swung the kid like a human Tilt-a-Whirl before planting him firmly on his shoulders- Jesse’s hands immediately coming out to grasp tufts of his hair for stability. Sam watched on, amused, as Dean winced at the pull on his scalp from the child’s hold on his short hair; but hid the discomfort as he peered up over his own head, “All set for the ride?”  
“Yeah” Jesse answered softly, face still flushed from the swinging around that Dean had done. But the corners of his lips were lifted in a small smile; so the brothers counted it as a win.  
“Okie; here we go. Remember to duck at the doors, kiddo. Don’t want you banging your head against them. Okay?”  
“Uh-huh” Jesse nodded, and he obediently bent forward as Dean stepped outside.  
Sam sighed in relief as he followed suit; heading in the opposite direction for Dean’s Chinese. He could still hear the fading rumble of Dean’s voice as he walked away with the kid perched on his shoulders, chatting about nonsensical stuff  as he tried to get the boy to open up to them.  
Travelling with a child was slow-going; with them needing to stop more frequently than usual; but somehow; knowing that they had an under-age passenger, both brothers attempted to steer their conversation away from _work_. And with Jesse asleep in the back seat; Dean refrained from putting on his tapes at the ear-shattering levels he usually enjoyed... but most importantly; wanting to keep the child happy had forced them to be more civil to each-other than they had been lately.  
Surprisingly, pretending to ‘forget’ their issues had strangely made them more in-sync. Sam didn’t kid himself into believing that things were back to the way they had been before... the one with a capital ‘B’... _before Lucifer, before Ruby, before Sam turning into a demon-blood junkie and setting the Devil free on earth, before Dean was tortured and broke in Hell; Hell, before Hell itself... before the Deal...before Azazeal’s ‘Plan’, before Dad whispered those damning words into Dean’s ear..._  
Sam broke off the seemingly unending chain of ‘before’ in his life; he hadn’t realised it then; but the days immediately succeeding Jessica’s death seemed so easy and relaxing in hind sight. True he had been heartbroken; but then he’d had Dean to help him through the loss. And even as soul crushing as it had been; Jessica’s death... or even their Dad’s had not been as hard as Dean’s had had been. Perhaps it had something to do with having his brother to help him through those losses; Dean had always stood like a bulwark between Sam and anything that might hurt him. In the days following their father’s passing- his so-called ‘deal’; his brother had shattered into a million pieces right before his helplessly watching eyes; but trying to help Dean through the loss- even as he lashed out against Sam; had helped to take his mind off his own grief.  
There had been nothing to distract him from Dean’s loss though; apart from the litany of ‘ _You Failed Him-Dean’s Dead-Dean’s In Hell Now-Dean’s Dead Because Of You in his head._ And then Ca-  
“Sir, your order?”  
Sam blinked at the counter-girl before offering a sheepish smile and placing his order; waited for it and thanked her when he got the take-out packages and turned to make the return journey.  
_And then Castiel: Angel of the Lord had pulled Dean out of the Pit._  
Sam wondered if he would ever be able to completely let go of his resentment at the Angel for taking away his Right and showing Dean what a pathetic little brother he had- one who could not break Dean’s Deal and then failed to stop him from getting tortured for forty years. _Forty_ _years_.  
_But Dean did forgive you_... something whispered in his mind.  
He nodded; _well, clearly he shouldn’t have!_  
_Why?_ The same voice questioned.  
_‘Coz I failed him... I FAILED him..._

The door shook as someone banged on it.  
Instantly Sam was suspicious, his forty-five locked and loaded reflexively as he flattened himself next to the door. “Who’s it?”  
“Batman!” Dean’s voice called out.  
Sam relaxed, biting back his grin as he unlocked the door, allowing Dean and the little Anti-Christ in.  
Dean had the kid perched on his hip, and the take-out boxes in his other hand. “Guess what?”  
“Dean got me ice-cream!” Jesse’s chipper voice declared.  
“Really, which flavour?” Sam smiled; obviously the elder Winchester had managed to work his Child Whisperer magic again as the boy was in remarkably better spirits now than when they had left.  
“Guess?” The happy, obviously on a sugar rush voice continued.  
“I don’t know... strawberry?” Sam tried to play along although a smear of chocolate on the boy’s cheek clearly gave the secret away.  
“No, guess again!” the boy called; happily plonking on the chair and swinging his feet  to and fro as Dean set him up before placing the food containers on the table.  
Sam glanced at his brother, remembering a time when Dean had done all this for _him_.  
“Guess. Guess. Guess!” Jesse chanted.  
“Ummm...” Sam scratched his head, “Chocolate?”  
“Yeah, how did you know?” The child mock-whispered  
Sam failed to reply, his eyes on the smiling figure of Ronald McDonald on the side of the bright red carton.  
“Told you he’s just that smart, kiddo” Dean filled in for him, one hand casually reaching for the boy’s food as he pushed it towards the now-smiling child. The Happy Meal carton turned from the action so that the smiling face of Ronald McDonald was no longer visible from Sam’s angle.  
Sam suppressed a smile, reminded once again how well his older brother knew him ... and how damn _protective_ Dean could be; even _now_ that Sam had accidentally set Lucifer free. Dean was a beguiling mix of hard, jaded soldier-street fighter with sharp uncut edges and protective momma Bear: all rounded corners and gentle, soft caresses.  
He remembered the times he’d longed for Dean’s specific brand of gruff no-nonsense care while away at Stanford. His breath jammed in his lungs at the thought; he caught Dean giving him a sharp look but he shook his head in a silent _I’m fine_ to his brother... a part of his mind still looping on how gentle and woefully _tiny_ Jessica’s fingers had felt during the rare occasions he’d been under the weather at college. Every molecule in him had screamed for Dean during those times- for soft callused hands that pushed the hair off his sweaty brow and the unique scent of leather and metal and gun oil (and sometimes, especially after a hunt) the scent of gunpowder and salt as he was cradled against the muscular chest of his brother while he heaved in supplication before the porcelain God.  
And Dean’s care while dealing with an under-the-weather Sam was always accompanied by a healthy-if suppressed; dose of anger- Anger at the universe in general for daring to mess with Dean’s Sammy. His brother’s affront on his behalf had always reassured Sam. If Dean could be angry at something as banal as Rhinoviridae and Picarnoviridae for infecting Sam with the common cold doing the rounds at school; any serious threat against his welfare would surely never be tolerated by his over-protective Big Brother.  
And this was the same man who tormented him more than any other person- calling him names that Dean himself would _gut_ (Dean’s words) anybody else for daring to use on Sam. The younger brother knew that Dean would face down werewolves and spirits without batting an eyelid. If Dean knew that he had ‘Sammy’ behind him, he would face down _anything_ without hesitation. But that same man could (and _had_ , on more than one occasion) turn around and prepare Mac n’ cheese for Sam’s lunch. He could punch Sam hard enough to loosen his teeth; but then ice the bruise with all the care of a Florence Nightingale.  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
Jesse’s face was pressed against the Impala’s window, wonder apparent on his young face as he spied the giant billboard announcing ‘Dale’s country fair’ with brightly coloured rides and gaudily dressed acrobats framing the words.  (Clowns were absent in the display; Sam noticed with some relief) “It’s a fair! There’s a fair playing at the next town!”  
Dean glanced into the rear view, “You wanna check it out, kiddo?”  
The boy’s face snapped forward, barely restrained excitement filling his voice, “Can we?”  
Dean shrugged, shooting a fleeting look towards his brother as he slowed the Impala, “What d’you say; Sam? Can we?”  
Sam shook off his surprise at being asked and looked at his brother, a refusal on his lips; but then he caught sight of the hopeful expression on the child’s face.

\---

\---

 

 _Lucifer_ was roaming on Earth.  
Heaven was preparing for _battle_.                                                                      
But the li’l Anti Christ wanted to visit a _fair_.

 _Screw it._  
_The apocalypse could wait._

Sam nodded, “Sure, why not?”  
Dean grinned, “Perfect!”  
And maybe it had been the right decision, because Sam couldn’t remember having this much fun with his brother in... _Forever_... despite them not being able to go on _all_ the rides due to the height restrictions- which weren’t a problem for either of them, but stopped Jesse (at least for now).  
And the three of them had a blast, acting almost like any of the other regular families that the fair was teeming with.  Snacking on fair-food (at one point, both Dean and Jesse sported matching cotton candy moustaches) and just relaxing for a day like the world wasn’t going to hell in a hand basket.  
 At least till Dean and Sam couldn’t find the boy in the crowd of kids rushing out after one of the kiddie rides.  
“You go that way, I’ll check this side” Dean commanded, his voice pinched with worry.  
Sam nodded, for once not arguing with his brother.

Dean stalked around the stalls, his senses on hyper alert as he scanned his surroundings for the missing child; nearly slicing his own hand when his phone buzzed.  
“Yeah”  
“You found him yet?” Sam’s voice crackled across the lines. Worry evident in his tone.  
“No”  
“Dean, do you think... _demons_?”  
“No, but it’s possible”  
“I’m gonna talk to a cop. Figure out if this place has a PA system... maybe the kid’s just los-”  
“I see him”  
“Thank God...Where?”  
“Row of food stalls...Near the parking lot” Was the growled response.  
“On my way”  
“Sam”  
The fury in his brother’s voice had him pulling up short.  
“Bring the cop along”  
And the connection went dead. Sam stared at his phone for a moment before snapping it closed and heading for the policeman he had spotted earlier; praying all the while that Dean wouldn’t do anything stupid.  
_Frickkin’_ _humans_!  
Dean was right: Monsters they understood; humans were just crazy!  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
Mike paused to take in the leather-clad man bearing down upon him, firming his grip on the boy’s arm and straightening his spine to appear nonchalant. “Yes?”  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The man, who on closer inspection had green eyes growled; rapidly closing the distance between them.  
“Umm... Sorry? I don’t follow...”  
The man had reached them by now and was even more menacing at close observation, nearly dwarfing him by height alone. “Drop the act, you bastard; let the kid go.”  
“The kid?” He hadn’t thought anybody had actually _seen_ him grab the boy; he glanced down at the struggling boy, trying to choose between making a run for it or bluffing his way through- the stranger’s dishevelled appearance and the dangerous glint in the man’s eye convincing him he was with someone who shared his... _interests_.  
Well, that was too bad; ’coz he was _NOT_ sharing. “He’s my son, mister and behaving like a brat because I refused him candy.”  
He glared down at the boy; trying to make his story seem believable, “See what you’ve done, boy? You’ve got this kind man thinking I was hurting you!!!” He shook the delicate arm for emphasis.  
“Son?” The man actually laughed at that- it was not a pleasant sound. “You’re telling me you are this boy’s father?”  
He saw a cop approaching them with a man who seemed even bigger than this idiot who had stopped him. _Just great, why couldn’t his luck hold up for him?_  
“Okay, tell you what-” he capitulated; apparently the guy had not seen the approaching threat and was _still_ stuck on cutting into his _prize_.  
“Shut up!”  
He reeled back from the blow, never having seen it come. The instinctive flinch had him dropping the youngster’s hand who; to-his-surprise, immediately flew into the arms of the leather-jacketed-monster, apparently not understanding that the guy was no hero. Atleast he could have promised that the boy would live once he was done; somehow he didn’t think Green-Eyes would show the same kindness.  
He jumped when someone placed a hand upon his arm, not having noticed the shadow of the giant apparently. Looking up he saw the cop frowning at him. _Shit._  
“You alright, Dean?” The giant asked his abuser. _Great, the monster had a friend who was a giant._  
“Just peachy; Mr. Pervert there might have a concussion though-I clocked him a good one.”  
The giant laughed, “We saw. What did the bastard say to get you riled up anyway?”  
Mike glared at them- _they were calling him names now?_  
“Claimed Jesse was his son” He spat, giving Mike a look that would have killed him if it were a knife. He shivered.  
Mike grumbled as he was pulled to his feet, the world blurring around the edges for a moment- _damn, the guy sure knew how to hit._  
He took a last look back at the Giant and the Mons- at _Dean_ , who was now cradling the boy carefully between them. Something about the scene struck him as wrong: maybe Monst- _Dean_ was not who he had originally assumed.  
“Is your son alright, Sir?”  
Both the boy and _Dean_ looked up at the cop with the same viridian gaze, the boy sniffling slightly as he burrowed into the Mons- into his _Father_ ’s side.  
On second thought, his Luck was working fine. He wondered what would have happened to him if the cop hadn’t turned up when he had. _Dean_ and his Giant friend may have very well killed him. And he liked Life just fine, thank you very much.  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
 “Could you please read me a story?” Jesse asked, ever since the run-in with the kidnapper earlier in the day, the boy had seemed more trusting of the brothers; gradually emerging from the shell he had retreated into for the first half of the week since they had picked him up from his home.  
They both jerked at the soft voice, but it was Dean who went over to sit next to Jesse, “Sure thing, Champ...Do you, uh- have something for me to read from?”  
The boy nodded, holding out a book. Dean smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair as he settled himself against the headboard, the book angled perfectly for Jesse to look at the illustrations on the page. It didn’t take long for Dean to become aware of Sam’s gaze and he arched an eyebrow in question even as he continued reading. Sam glanced away, mouthing a ‘sorry’ as he looked back at the research they had been going through before the interruption. If it took him a couple of blinks to refocus his attention on the pages before him, it was nobody’s business but his.  
Dean’s voice was soft, a peaceful background of white noise as Sam continued to look through pages of lore about the Devil. It was only when a yawn surprised him that he realized that he was reacting to his brother’s voice. He had spent a good chunk of his childhood falling asleep to that gentle cadence as Dean either read or made up bed-time stories for him; careful to keep his voice low enough that they did not disturb Dad and-he was surprised to discover, his voice _still_ had the power to lull him to sleep. And although it was no secret, it still managed to shake him to the core- realizing just how much of a parent his big brother had been to him.  
Moments like these always managed to sneak up to him unaware- rocking his world on its axis.  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
“Can I have some too?”  
Both Dean and the silver haired waitress pouring their daily dose of caffeine raised their eyebrows; Sam who’d watched Jesse sneak a sip from his cup back at the motel the day before remained unperturbed. He merely corrected, “It’s ‘m _ay_ I’; Jesse.”  
The boy complied, turning to the waitress as he re-framed his question, “May I have some too?”  
She glanced askance at Dean, but the elder Winchester nodded, requesting an empty cup which he allowed Gina (as her tag proclaimed) to fill with a couple of teaspoons of the dark liquid.  
“Could we have some cream and sugar as well; please?” Dean questioned, nodding out a ‘thanks’ when the elderly woman nodded.  
“No! I wanna have it like you do!” Jesse objected.  
“I don’t think you’ll like it, kiddo...”  
“But I want to!” Jesse insisted, his little feet swinging at a rapid pace to match to his agitation.  
Dean sighed, “Fine...”  
Sam looked up, surprised at the seemingly easy acquiescence to the child’s demands by his brother. Dean was holding out a spoonful of the hot beverage, blowing on it carefully so that it didn’t scald the youngster’s tongue, “Easy, don’t burn yourself”  
Jesse scowled at having to sip from a spoon instead of from the mug directly, but nevertheless he leaned forward obediently. And his expression was as amusing as they had anticipated when the bitter taste registered.  Dean appeared to have foreseen the boy’s attempt to spit the liquid back out because his fingers pinched the boys lips shut.  
“Swallow”                                                                                                                                                                                        
Jesse’s eyes watered but he abided by the command; coughing and making gagging noises the second Dean released him.  
“Can’t believe you did that” Sam muttered as he caught sight of the horrified expression on their waitress’s face as she watched the exchange from a distance. “She probably thinks were child abusers now”  
Dean glanced up from where he had been stirring in a generous dollop of cream and an even larger helping of sugar into the cup she had filled for Jesse, “Who Gina?”  He continued stirring, “Nah; she’s cool”  
“I hope you’re right” Sam murmured, not convinced that they would not be run out at any given minute now.  
“Hmmm” Dean ignored him, carefully holding out a spoonful of the (Now) caramel coloured liquid to the child, “Here, try this”  
Jesse shook his head.  
“I think you’ll like it better now, kiddo... Come on; this time I’ll let you spit it back out if you don’t; okay?”  
Hesitantly the boy leaned forward again, blowing carefully on the spoon like he’d seen Dean do. After a cautious sip (not taking chances of repeating his previous mistake) the boy visibly swirled the liquid in his mouth. A moment later his eyes lit up. “I like it!”  
“Told’ja you would” Dean grinned.  
“Why do you drink it like that when you can make it tasty?”  
Sam bit back a laugh, Dean had told him often times that he’d questioned nearly everything as a child; driving both their Dad and his brother up the wall with his questions, but till he’d seen Jesse in action he had never really comprehended the amount of questions a child could have. And irrespective of how annoyed his big brother got, Dean had never _really_ lost his cool the way his father occasionally had after a particularly gruelling round of ‘Whys’ and ‘Why not’s from Sam.  
It was no different even all these years later.  
 “I dunno,” Dean shrugged, “I guess I just like it better this way?”  
“You do?” Jesse’s jade eyes were wide with incomprehension, and then a plaintive, “But why?”  
Deciding he needed to rescue his brother from (yet another) round of twenty-questions; Sam jumped in, “You know how people have different favourite colours and favourite foods and...”  
“Games” Dean supplied.  
“Yeah... this is like that? You _like_ it better bitter?”  
Both brothers had to bite their cheeks to keep from laughing at the child’s question.  
“Yeah, we do, kiddo... at least I do; Sammy prefers his with cream and sugar like you.”  
Jesse seemed impressed, “Will I like it like that someday too?”  
Sam shrugged, “Maybe... but its okay if you don’t... I mean I still don’t like my coffee black.”                    
“But I wanna be like Dean!”  
Sam couldn’t keep his smile hidden anymore; it was like watching a younger, pint-sized version of himself through a third-person perspective.  
“Trust me; you don’t” Dean growled; too low for the child to hear but not soft enough for Sam to miss. The younger brother raised an eyebrow in question but the elder simply shrugged, “What? It’s true. He can do so much better, Sam. I’m not anybody’s role model. I _can’t_ be.”  
“But you are.” Sam protested in a heated whisper, “And he’ll be lucky to grow up into half the person you are, Dean”  
Dean shook his head, his lips thinning in displeasure as he glanced away through the window towards where their car was parked in the distance; stubbornly refusing to believe any good about himself.  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
“Hey Champ, hold on for a minute.” Dean called out as he rounded the trunk with their gear; placing all but their weapon’s bag on the dirt of the Salvage yard.  
“What?” Sam could not help but question when Jesse obediently went to Dean’s outstretched hand- _since when had Dean started considering Bobby to be a threat???_  
The older Winchester smoothly lifted the child to sit on the bonnet before focussing on the kid, “You remember how I told you I would always do everything in my power to keep you safe?”  
A hesitant nod  
“Good, ‘cause I want to try something, alright? I promise that I’ll do my best to ensure that this does not hurt; but I’ve gotta do this. Clear?”  
“What-what are you going to do?” The boy’s voice was soft, panicked.  
“Just run a few tests... We don’t want to discover that ...well, some of the things we do, hurt you, okay? This way, we’ll figure it out in a controlled environment; and I can stop the second anything starts to hurt.”  
The boy was quiet but his eyes were impossibly wide. Sam wondered why that expression on the kid’s face reminded him of Dean as a child.  
“Alright, ready?” Dean asked, holding out their flask of holy water.  
“What’s in it?”  
“Holy water. It-it shouldn’t hurt, Jesse...” Dean told the boy, even as he cradled one small arm in his left hand and spilled a few drops of the liquid.  
Sam let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when nothing happened- there was no steaming and instinctive flinch. The boy too, watched wide-eyed for a few seconds before venturing a tremulous smile.  
Dean’s answering grin was blinding. “Doing great, kid. Now for the next step, alright?” He held out his silver dagger and even from his position a few steps behind Dean, Sam could hear Jesse’s terrified inhalation.  
“Sshhh... It’s okay...it’s okay- I’ll just be pressing the side of the knife against your arm. See?” Dean coached as he pulled the trembling child against himself and followed up his words with their accompanying action. “Does it hurt?”  
There was no audible reply, but Sam caught a glimpse of the mop of brown hair moving against his brother’s chest in a silent ‘no’.  
“Alright then; now this might hurt a tiny wee bit, okay? Just a pinprick... sshhh, you’re a big boy, right? You can handle this... Come on kiddo, its okay. I’ll be right next to you. Sshhh...It’s okay...” Dean whispered as he swiftly manoeuvred the boy’s trembling hand and pushed the tip of the blade into the fragile skin. A drop of blood welled up but no more.”There, it’s already done, see? You are such a brave little boy. Come on now, smile.”  
Jesse followed the instructions mutely, staring up at Dean with wet eyes and a trembling lip.  
“Oh kiddo, I’m so sorry I scared you... Sshhh...Calm down now. Sshhh, it’s okay, it’s over...” Dean murmured as he hugged the tiny trembling form to his chest. Still cradling the child, he turned to glance at Sam, mouthing ‘Devil’s trap’ as he continued to soothe the shaken minor.  
Jesse crossed the trap silently and without event, but stumbled on the uneven ground of the salvage yard. Instantly, he was hoisted up in his big brother’s arms with a murmured ‘I’ve got you, kiddo’. Sam smiled- _it never ceased to amuse him how effortlessly a child could worm his or her way through his big brother’s impregnable defences._  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
Breakfast had been as awkward as anticipated with Jesse retreating back into the painfully shy seven-year old around Bobby. The child’s diet was gone again, but Dean’s constant pestering (Sam’s version) and highlighting the importance of breakfast (Dean’s words) ultimately had the youngster accepting some toast and omelette eventually. Bobby raised an eyebrow in silent question when the elder Winchester wordlessly leaned to his right to cut up the boy’s meal into manageable bite-sized portions; but went back to his own meal at Sam’s shrug.  
However both remaining hunter’s had to suppress a smile when Dean wordlessly deposited a tumbler of milk in front of Jesse (and the child made a face) when he got up to refill his mug of coffee  
Unfortunately, the slice of peaceful domesticity didn’t last long (depending once again, on whose version you agreed with) when Jesse finished his milk, sat for a moment with his lips pressed tight and then turned green before up-chucking his entire breakfast. Sam was certain he could make out half-masticated pieces of toast among other unmentionable (or debatable) formerly- edible items on the soiled table.  
Of course the observations were made later. His first reaction was to jump out of his seat to avoid getting splashed by the vomit and then avoid the (gross) sluggish liquid dripping off the edge of the table from dribbling onto his jeans.  
He stared in dismay at the mess, glaring at the boy; “What the hell, Jesse?”  
“Sam!” Dean’s rebuke was instant. And sharp.  
He stared at his brother in surprise (from all their experience of getting splashed/ drowned/ splattered/ covered or basically involved with disgusting substances; and the ruckus Dean always made about snagging the first shower immediately after); he had assumed Dean would be on his side about dealing with this latest goo... only, it appeared now that Dean didn’t mind puke all that much.  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
Sam jumped at the sloshing mug of coffee (topped with liquor) dumped on the table before him hard enough to make the steaming liquid spill.  
“Wha-?” he glanced as the older hunter wheeled himself to a stop next to him.  
“What’s on your mind?”  
“Huh?” was his eloquent reply.  
“Don’t play dumb with me, kid. What’s bothering you now?”  
“I think the boy did something to Dean” Sam whispered, hunching in on himself as he confessed his fear.  
Bobby’s lips twitched in amusement, “What makes you say that?”  
“He- he’s changed.”  
“Changed how?”  
“He hasn’t come down in nearly three days, Bobby! You don’t find that strange?”  
“The kid’s sick; someone has to...I guess” The hunter shrugged.  
“I dunno, Bobby; it’s just- Dean seems so focused on the kid...”  
“Idgit!” The older man couldn’t help the laughter from spilling out.  
“You think this is _funny_?” Sam fumed- the Winchester anger that emerged when _family_ was threatened coming to fore.  
“You mind your tone with me, boy” Bobby growled, sobering “And no, Dean hasn’t changed”  
“I had to force him to come down for breakfast today!”  
“So?”  
“So it’s just not normal, Bobby! I’ve ne’er seen Dean react like this!” Sam could feel his voice going up but couldn’t stop the panic from leaking into his words.  
The wheel-chair confined hunter just laughed, shaking his head; “Dean’s always been like that, Sam. The only reason you never noticed was because it was _you_ he lavished his attention on”  
Sam could only gape. _Dean’d been always like this?_  
Something in his expression must have enlightened the older hunter to his disbelief because he added, “Remember the summer you were eight and sprained your ankle jumping from one of the junkyard vehicles?”  
Sam nodded.  
“Your brother freaked out. Blamed himself for not paying enough attention”  
“Why? He had been right there, reading a comic. I slipped, Bobby. How the hell did Dean turn that into his fault?” He was genuinely confused now.  
“Thought he should’ve been faster- Stopped your fall”  
“...”  
“He was ne’er more than a couple of feet away from you after that. And I think he ne’er smiled that summer too. Ran drills till he nearly collapsed. And trained some more.” Bobby shook his head. “Idgit had it drilled into his head that you were his responsibility.”  
“I-I never noticed, Bobby” Sam’s voice was incredibly small- _A child seeking comfort._  
“He ne’er wanted you to.” Bobby reassured, “Dean’s always been like this, Sam. And that kid upstairs practically worships the ground your brother walks on... much like you did. I doubt there’s any reason to worry”  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
Sam looked at the way the kid was pressed against Dean- his face burrowing into the hard planes of his brother’s stomach even as his slender arms tried to wrap around his waist. For his part, Dean had a hand flung over the boy’s shoulders; holding him. Fine shivers wrecked the child’s frame and though Dean was trying to be stoic, he could see that it was twisting his brother apart to have Jesse break down on him like that.  
“Please...I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do everything you ask... just let me come with you. Don’t leave me here. Please.”  
“Dean.” He was surprised to hear his own voice.  
“Sam, no”  
He wondered what his brother saw on his face to react like that. “Dean-”  
His brother’s eyes blazed as he gently pushed the child away before storming out of the room. Sam continued to watch for a minute- he set the child on the couch and with a barked, ‘Stay there’; hurried after his brother.  
He wasn’t surprised to find Dean leaning against the Impala.  
“Dude!”  
“Sam; don’t...just- don’t. Alright?”  
“Come on, why not? Do you honestly believe that it would be so bad? And I’ve seen you, man. You adore the kid. ”  
When his brother looked up, he could see the suspicious wetness clinging to his lashes. He decided not to call him out on it.  
“Yeah, maybe I do, Sammy...but so what? That doesn’t give me any right to drag him across the country, does it? It wouldn’t be fair to him.”  
“Wouldn’t be fair-“, he spluttered, “Dean, are you fucking kidding me? You think it is _fair_ to leave him with a wheelchair bound old hunter? In what UNIVERSE is that a _better_ option?”  
“I thought you would be the first one to understand, Sam!” This time the frustrated anger was out in full force, “‘Cause the way I remember it, _you_ were the one who hated never having a home.”  
“Yeah, I hated it Dean. Doesn’t mean I would have let Dad or you just abandon me with Bobby or Pastor Jim... I didn’t like all the moving around- doesn’t mean I wanted to be split from my family.”  
“And that’s the clincher, ain’t it? Neither one of us is Jesse’s family.”  
Sam refused to be distracted. “We’re the closest thing he has to one and he prefers you a damn sight better than Bobby. Or haven’t you noticed how you’re the only one who can get him to follow orders? Or the only one he’ll allow to read him bedtime stories?”  
“I noticed, Sam.” And now Dean sounded defeated. “You really think this is a better idea?”  
“Jesse clearly wants to come with us.”  
“And you wouldn’t mind?”  
“Dude, Dad hauled the two of us around wherever he went. You think the two of us together can’t handle one kid?”  
Dean seemed to relax at that.”Thanks- coz, I don’t think I can do this on my own, you know?”  
“I have your back, Dean; _Always_.” He smiled. “Now go- you have a heartbroken seven year old waiting.”

  
∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞  
[  
](http://sanshal.livejournal.com/9129.html)

tbc


End file.
